


Run Away With Me

by OnlySkyAboveMe



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Actor!Scott, Actress!Tessa, Alternate Universe, Broadway AU, Cute, F/M, Fluff, I hope this has your blessing?, If not consider it a random AU, Inspired by S!S!, Merry Christmas Daisy!, Road Trip, snuggles by the fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySkyAboveMe/pseuds/OnlySkyAboveMe
Summary: Tessa and Scott get a little downtime from their Broadway schedule...Inspired by PinkGerberDaisies' 'Spectacular!Spectacular!'(Written for a Secret Santa fic exchange, the author will be revealed soon.)





	Run Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PinkGerberDaisies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/gifts).



> To quote Daisy's secret santa wish list:  
> 'anything inspired by one of my fics sends me to the moon'  
> I really hope I've done you justice here. I also hope our holiday themed fics expanding on this universe don't clash too horribly!! Hive mind is real because I think we came up with our ideas around the same time.
> 
> If you aren't Daisy, I would highly recommend you listen to [this](https://youtu.be/qoRvnSNCK80) before (and possibly during) for the full effect!
> 
> (The moment Daisy told me her favourite song from Aaron Tveit's 54 Below album was this one I listened, I screamed, I listened again, then I went to scream at Tara!)

_ Monday 23rd November 2020 _

“Virtch, you ready to go?” His voice is gentle and distracted as he enters their bedroom, pulling his blazer on over his open-collared shirt, which he has paired with smart, dark jeans and a scarf draped loosely around his neck, ready to protect him from the harsh November temperatures in the Big Apple.

“Yep,” she replies, zipping her thigh-high boots up over her skinny jeans before stepping right into his space, her heels putting them at eye level with one another. “Hi” she says, smiling as he rubs his nose against hers. “Careful, you’ll get my makeup on you.”

He levels her with a seductive stare and whispers, his voice deep and gravelly, “I’ve had your makeup all over me, Tess, I think I can handle a little smudge on the end of my nose.” 

Then he crosses his eyes in an attempt to look down at it, causing her to break into a fit of giggles which, unfortunately, leads right into several minutes of coughing. She’d recently succumbed to a quite horrendous bought of flu, which had forced her out of their penultimate week of shows on Broadway (about which she was still deeply upset) and had banished him to sleep on Chiddy’s couch (having recently returned from the ‘Hamilton’ tour to begin rehearsals for ‘Angels in America’) so that he wouldn’t get sick either.

“It’s just, I needed more than normal to cover up the bags under my eyes and the redness around my nose. Can you tell?”

He takes a step back to get a proper look, taking in her effortless natural beauty and feeling overwhelmingly lucky and grateful that this is the woman he loves, and who loves him in return. But he can’t help but tease her, so he arranges his features into a frown of mock disapproval. Tessa’s stunningly green eyes widen, and she turns abruptly to check her reflection in the mirror.

“Sweetie, I’m kidding,” he reaches tenderly for her wrist as her hand comes up to her face. “You look beautiful, you always do.”

“I don’t look like I’ve been bedridden for a week?”

“Not at all. I promise.” He takes her face gently in his hands and kisses her cheek. “Shall we head out? I’ll hail a cab?”

She nods and he goes on ahead, and when she joins him on the street in her long, cream wool coat and matching red cashmere hat and scarf, he is waiting beside a yellow taxi, conversing amicably with the driver through the window. He opens the door for her as she approaches, bowing grandly where he still stands on the curb and flourishing a non-existent top hat as he announces,

“Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

She blushes and giggles, taking his hand as she steps down onto the road to get into the taxi, then glances briefly up and down the street before rising up on her toes to peck him on the cheek and takes delight in the way his cheeks flush and her favourite goofy grin spreads across his face. 

She snuggles into his side as the taxi makes its way through the city, and they chat quietly together, mainly so she doesn’t drift off and drool onto his charcoal grey overcoat. They eventually pull up in front of Feinstein’s/54 Below and are able to dash in before too many of people lining up on the street outside are able to work out who they are. Neither of them notices any flashes of cameras, which is always a bonus.

The owners of the Al Hirschfeld have decided that an impromptu night of entertainment at 54 Below by the companies of ‘Moulin Rouge’ and some of the shows at their other theatres (including ‘Mean Girls’, ‘Frozen’ and ‘Book of Mormon’) would be an excellent publicity boost for the shows and theatres, and hopefully stave off the usual New Year sales slump. They only publicly announced the performance a mere 12 hours ago but the place is packed, and Tessa and Scott are pulled into a few photos on the way to their table. They take their seats near the back and slightly off to the side. They’re here to support their castmates and the other performers tonight, not grab the limelight themselves, though it doesn’t stop them being called out by said castmates and having to stand and acknowledge the applause of the audience.

They all put on a great show, mixing it up with some gender-swapped songs, some re-interpretations of lyrics and choreography, and some absolute classics to bring the house down. It’s nearing 10pm when the lights dim and the company members all shuffle towards their table near the front, leaving Holly under the spotlight. Tessa whoops loudly for her friend, who will be taking over her role full time until the New Year, and Holly grins conspiratorially from her place centre-stage.

“Are we all having a good time tonight?” she asks the audience, who respond enthusiastically, many cheers and whistles emanating from the crowded club. “Excellent. Whilst our fabulous performers take a quick break for a drink…”

“Cheers!” comes the cry from the cast table, followed by the sound of glasses clinking and laughter rumbling from amongst them.

“...I wonder if we might perhaps persuade one of Broadway’s favourite Canucks to grace the stage?” she winks in the direction of their table.

There’s cheering all around, and the banging of hands on tables and feet on the floor. Her heart thumps a little too hard in her chest as she slowly turns to look at Scott, only to discover that he’s already on his feet and adjusting his jacket, dropping his hand to her shoulder and squeezing it gently. He’s planned this, she knows it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, making his much-anticipated return to the 54 Below stage, please welcome my favourite  _ male _ Canadian, Tony award winner Scott Moir!”

Tessa stares, open-mouthed as Scott makes his way up to the stage, fist-bumping Holly as he goes past her and shaking the piano player’s hand before muttering something in her ear. Then he positions himself in front of the mic, shuffling his feet a little before going completely still and closing his eyes, finding that moment of calm before a performance, a moment they would normally spend in each other’s arms.

The gentle, lilting piano intro plays, and Tessa cocks her head to the side momentarily, recognising the tune, but struggling to place the song exactly. That is, until Scott opens his mouth and begins to sing.

_ “Let me catch my breath. _

_ This is really hard. _

_ If I start to look like I'm sweating, well _

_ It's 'cause I am” _

The audience chuckles at this self-deprecating line, encouraged by Scott pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and patting it over his forehead. Tessa laughs along with them, shaking her head gently at the man she loves owning the stage and the crowd in a way that’s just so natural to him.

_ “I'm not good with words, _

_ But that's nothing new. _

_ Still I have to try to explain what I want to do _

_ With you. _

_ With you.” _

His eyes momentarily flick over in her direction, an action imperceptible except to her. It’s a look she can feel before she sees it, one shared across stages, from opposite sides of the wings, around throngs of people in lobbies and bars when functions call for them to separate and mingle. It’s an unspoken agreement that they’ll be back together very soon; it’s a  _ meet me at the champagne fountain in five _ , a  _ see you outside the dressing room at the end of the act _ , though sometimes it’s just a  _ did you remember to shut the window this morning  _ kind of look.

_ “Run away with me. _

_ Let me be your ride out of town, _

_ Let me be the place that you hide _

_ We can make our lives on the go _

_ Run away with me.” _

A ghost of a smile appears on his lips as the piano re-enters alongside him, and she can feel the hairs on her arms begin to stand on end, despite the warmth of the room. 

_ “Texas in the summer is cool. _

_ We'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac, _

_ Looking back, _

_ Sam, you're ready, let's go _

_ Anywhere. _

_ Get the car packed and throw me the key _

_ Run away with me.” _

Tessa feels her breath catch in her throat as his hazel eyes flick purposefully towards her as he addresses ‘Sam’ with the tiniest of smiles pulling at his mouth. She beams back at him, watching entranced as he gets lost in the song, closing his eyes and allowing the melody and the rhythm to overtake him. She can feel her body mirroring his, a gentle sway in the shoulders and hips, a sense of peace and calm washing through her.

_ “Sam, I know it's fast, _

_ I'm in love with you. _

_ Sam, it's crazy, but Sam, I'm crazier for you. _

_ I have these plans _

_ Sam, I have these plans, _

_ Of a house that we build on a bay _

_ When we run away” _

A year ago she could have killed Kevin for telling Scott that her siblings had called her Sam for the entirety of her childhood. But, in the end, the revelation turned out to be just that, providing her with the perfect alter ego to replace ‘Audrey’, who had served her well for several years prior. Sam’s profile on Scott’s phone contains her own phone number and email address, the photo a silhouette of her in profile wearing a top hat. 

Sam had been a godsend more than once already, the unisex name meaning it was less incriminating for him when people had tried to grab photos of his phone screen a couple of times, such as when he had attended hockey games with his cousin when she was in town. Tessa frequently used it when booking restaurant and hotels, too – though often it was  _ his  _ alter ego, Joe, who made such reservations. They’d developed an amusing habit of calling each other Samuel and Josephine – and had a pair of Valentine’s cards in a drawer somewhere in which those two declared their unwavering love for one another. 

She smiles at the memory and rolls the stem of her wine glass between her fingers distractedly. He has plans. She knows it’s just a line in the song, but she knows it’s true, because she does too. Hearing him sing those words fills her with warmth from head to toe, like being embraced though he is several metres away from her.

_ “Let me be your ride out of town, _

_ Let me be the place that you hide _

_ We can make our lives on the go _

_ Run away with me _

_ Alabama heat - sign me up _

_ We'll be on the road like some country song,” _

He grins cheekily around the word ‘country’ and she shakes her head with a smile, remembering their first big fight, which arose out of him playing country music far too early in the morning on their day off .

(“Tessa, 11:30 in the morning is not early!”

“I swear to god, Scott, turn that garbage off before I throw your Bluetooth speaker out the window!”)

_ “Won't be long _

_ Sam, you're ready, let's go. _

_ Anywhere _

_ Get the car packed and throw me the key _

_ Run away with me.” _

He levels her with a very serious stare for a split second before looking out beyond the audience and belting out the bridge.

_ “I'm not trying to make you a wife here _

_ I'm not trying to tie you down _

_ I'm just saying there may be a life here _

_ A new one as soon as we run _

_ Just as soon as we run.” _

(“Scott…”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something here, right?”

“Yeah.” He whispers with a lopsided smile.

“Good.”)

_ “Run away _

_ Let me be your ride out of town. _

_ Run away with me.” _

She can feel her blood pumping through every artery as Scott and the music reach their full crescendo, Scott now entirely lost in the song, body and soul, in that mesmerising way he often is.

_ “California dreams here we come _

_ Romeo is calling for Juliet _

_ Ready, set _

_ Sam, you're ready, let's go _

_ Anywhere _

_ Say the word and I'm already there _

_ Run away with me.” _

The audience is cheering before the pianist can finish the closing bars, though he doesn’t notice, instead looking to Tessa who nods her head softly before lowering her lashes, shyly. He appears to come back to himself and acknowledges the applause of the crowd, and he smiles in that self-deprecating way he does; the shy, private one that Broadway audiences rarely see because when he’s switched on for a show, he’s all business and projected confidence. In a way, it’s a smile that belongs to her. 

It’s the smile he gives her when she appears at his dressing room door (because apparently it takes  _ him  _ the longest to remove his makeup and shower after a show) and tells him how amazing he is night after night after night. It’s the same smile he gives her as they wait by the back door of the club, as she tells him how incredibly he was in the taxi back to their apartment as she runs her hand higher and higher up his thigh, as she peels off his jacket and then her own boots before walking towards their bedroom and turning back to look at him with a heated gaze and a crook of the finger. It’s the smile that comes over him when he realises he’s the goddamn luckiest man in the world.

~ ~ ~

_ Tuesday 24th November 2020 _

Their alarm going off just before 6am is the last thing either of them wants to hear, and she clings tighter to him, latching onto his back like a koala, savouring the warmth of his body. Somehow they drag themselves out of bed and their boxes down to the car within half an hour, meaning they get on the road at around the time they were hoping to, neither of them particularly excited about the near nine hour drive ahead of them.

“Oh, wait. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

Scott watches her in confusion from the passenger seat as she leaps out of the car and runs back up to the apartment building, leaving her door open and letting the frigid November air into the vehicle. No sooner has he loosened his seatbelt and stretched over to the door to close it when she reappears, breathless and clasping a familiar statuette in her hand. Scott does a double take when he sees it.

“Where have you been hiding  _ that _ ?” he asks, probably a little too loudly for the early hour. She shushes him as she pulls her door shut and shoves the Tony into the cup holder. Scott snorts with laughter. “You can’t put it there!”

“Why not, it’s been in the kitchen cabinet with your broken blender all this time.”

Scott gapes at her and then starts to laugh and shake is head.

“I thought your Mom had it?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ with a smirk before pulling out into the road. “That would be where  _ yours _ is.”

“Only because she stole it the last time she visited,” he says, his hands folded over his chest and looking more like a 12-year-old than ever.

“You were keeping it in the washroom. It was unhygienic!” She wrinkles her nose at the memory.

“I wanted people to be able to interact with it in their own way in private, like Kate Winslet does with her Oscar!” he protests with a huff. “Now it’s on the mantle at my parents house and gets dusted every morning.” He rolls his eyes.

She reaches over and squeezes his leg. “They’re proud of you,” she says softly, and he relaxes instantly at her touch, “and so am I.”

“See, I’m definitely most proud of you, Kiddo,” he says, lifting up the hand that rests on his leg and pressing a delicate kiss on the knuckles before guiding it the back to the wheel. She rolls her eyes with a small smile; they’d agreed she would drive first so that she would stay awake, and in return he would be buying the coffees for the entire journey seeing as it was his grand idea to drive home instead of fly. In the end though, it had been a good idea, allowing them to bring all their final bits and pieces back to Canada, leaving just a suitcase-worth amount of stuff in their New York apartment to see them through until their final Broadway performance on Sunday.

“Did you think that when I spilled that coffee over you in the corridor of the rehearsal studio we’d ever end up here?” she asks, stopping at yet another red light in their attempt to get off the island of Manhattan.

“Here?” he asks, gesturing to the award still sitting in the cup holder. “Or here?” he asks, reaching over to turn her face gently towards him, meeting her eyes with a smile.

“Here!” she says spreading her arms to signify everything, accidentally knocking her hand on the window, her rings scraping against the glass with a squeak, before pulling it back and laughing at herself.

“Never in my wildest dreams, Babe,” he says, staring adoringly at her. She smiles shyly, their gazes locked until the car behind them honks their horn and her cheeks pink a little as she puts the car into drive and pulls away from the green light.

They chatter non-stop as they slowly make their way out of the city, the traffic poor despite leaving early. They talk through their packed itinerary for the next few days ahead in Canada. Their recently amended schedule (no performances on Sunday evenings, Tuesdays or Wednesdays, thanks to their final contract extension on Broadway) means they can take full advantage of the show also being dark on the Thanksgiving holiday in order to get out of the city for a few days. However, it also means that the producers have chosen to fill that day with press for the Toronto show. Thus their plans include seeing Tessa’s family tonight and Scott’s family in Ilderton tomorrow for ‘Christmas’ (as they’ll be performing in Toronto over the holidays) before getting picked up in preparation for appearing on national breakfast television on Thursday. In fact, the producers have arranged a whole takeover on CTV, which was both thrilling and terrifying.

They both jumped at the offer to continue their roles of Satine and Christian in the Toronto production of ‘Moulin Rouge’, and the Canadian press was abuzz with the prospect of their two Tony-winning superstars returning to tread the boards in the motherland. The announcement of the new production had brought about refreshed attention on their relationship (which, even after all this time, they continue to keep private as possible) as well as a renewed interest in them as artists. The show hasn’t even started rehearsing in the city and Tessa has already been approached by the producers of ‘Waitress’ to star in the Toronto production and Canadian tour next year, and Nivea have been in touch to arrange some test shoots for a potential new campaign. Meanwhile, Scott’s agent has had multiple calls from Damien Chazelle and a couple of other directors, who are attempting to coax him to the Hollywood hills. 

Whilst all of these opportunities now presenting themselves are quite astounding, neither has been particularly quick to accept anything. Both are exhausted by their run on Broadway and both are craving some quiet time to relax and to be alone together and agree on exactly where their lives are going, professionally and personally - though, in reality, they are each on the same page with the latter. They’ve agreed they will not take on anything new until their six month contract is up, and are both happy with the freedom and relief that decision has provided for them.

Once they get out of Manhattan and are cruising along on the highway (and have stopped twice at Starbucks) they put on music and begin to sing. She’s still getting over her flu, but her slightly husky (and therefore impossibly sexy) renditions of ‘Roxy’ and ‘Money’ leave him practically drooling in the passenger seat. That is, until she pushes him to the brink of tears with her take of ‘She Used To Be Mine’ (partly because it’s so moving, partly because Tessa herself singing it is something else, and partly because he knows that this is yet another role she was born to play). 

She laughs at him softly as he wipes his eyes, and he scours his Spotify playlists to seek revenge, eventually settling on a couple of crooning classics - ‘Luck Be A Lady’ and ‘Top Hat, White Tie and Tails’ - taking advantage of his own slightly scratchy throat to add some low level vibrato that causes her cheeks to flush pink and her pupils to dilate, and leaves her no other option but to pull over into the nearest rest stop, slam the car into park in the most secluded looking spot and drag him into the back seat.

She falls asleep just after they cross the border, having swapped drivers somewhere in northern Pennsylvania. This works in Scott’s favour though, as he is able to keep their final destination a secret until they arrive. She thinks they’re headed to Ilderton, but in reality he’s programmed the GPS to take them to the shores of Lake Huron. She sleeps peacefully for the remainder of the journey, completely oblivious to him switching the radio station to his favourite local country music one as well as stopping at Tim Hortons - the five Timbits he’s left for her now keeping her Tony company in the adjacent cup holder. 

She stirs the moment he shuts off the engine and shuffles in her seat, looking about in confusion when she realises it’s pitch black outside. 

“Where are we?” she murmurs, rubbing her eyes “Have we broken down?”

“No, we’re here” he says with a satisfied smirk, switching the car’s headlamps back on and bathing the cottage in light.

“Oh,” she squeaks, eyes widening as she realises exactly where she is, “but…”

“You agreed that we could run anywhere, and I thought that perhaps here would be best? You’ve been sick, and we need a break, Kiddo. I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence because she throws herself across the central console to hug him as tightly as she can with her seatbelt still in the way. She pulls away and puts an arm’s distance between them, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” she whispers, dropping a soft kiss to his forehead before gathering her handbag from the back seat, jumping out of the car and hurrying like an excited child towards the cottage.

Kate had suggested they go to the cottage after he called her one afternoon while Tessa was sleeping, originally to confirm their plans for their early Christmas get together, seeing as they would be performing over the holidays in Toronto. Scott explained how sick she’d been, and he knew that he also sounded completely exhausted and run down himself, and before he knew it she had insisted that they go to the cottage for a few days to relax just the two of them, rather than be inundated by siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews at either her or his parents’ house. Kate had told him where Tessa usually kept her spare key for the place, and he had quickly found it and added it to his own ring for safekeeping until today. He was glad it had remained a surprise to Tessa, as her reaction had been just what he was hoping for.

When they get inside it’s clear that Kate and Alma have come in ahead and prepared for their arrival. Some of their doings are much appreciated and welcome after their 9-hour drive; the casserole bubbling away in the crockpot, the wine chilling in the fridge alongside her favourite cheesecake, the large stack of wood and kindling by the fireplace, the electric blanket warming the bed, the teetering pile of DVDs by the television. But other parts really aren’t; the entwined towel swans on the bed (how even…?) the rose petals in the drawn bath (which is now cold) and the box of condoms on the nightstand. Scott had turned a furious shade of red and carried them like a dirty dishrag between finger and thumb into the bathroom and tossed them into the cupboard under the sink with a shudder, content that between them they were covered for  _ that _ .

After second helpings of the casserole and then the cheesecake, they settle down in front of the fire and put ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ into the DVD player, snuggling against one another under the fluffy blanket as Gene Kelley struts his stuff with an umbrella. They’d eventually agreed on this movie as it’s the sort of classic people always watch around Christmas time, yet isn’t Christmassy itself, the perfect combination – “because it’s only  _ November _ , Tess.” 

A short way in, Tessa’s phone pings somewhere under the blanket, and she gropes around blindly beneath it, first grabbing onto Scott’s knee, and then grabbing what is absolutely definitely  _ not  _ his knee (or her phone for that matter) – causing him to let out a rather amusing sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan. He hits pause on the movie as she unlocks her phone, and begins nuzzling his nose against her neck, now feeling suitably distracted.

“It’s Kaitlyn,” she explains, scrolling through the message quickly and firing off a short, emoji-laden response. “I thought she would probably message me.”

Kaitlyn, an old university friend of Tessa’s, will be joining them in the Toronto production as one of the Diamond Dogs. Her resume is impressive, featuring a number of swing roles including the off-Broadway production of ‘Bring It On’, ‘Guys and Dolls’ in London’s West End, as well as several North American tours, the most recent being the understudy Elle Woods in ‘Legally Blonde’. 

(“No Broadway though,” he had noted out loud as he thumbed through the dossier of information on the Toronto production the team had sent through to them a few weeks back, along with their final, month-long contract renewal, “except…” His musings had been cut off by Tessa throwing a piece of raw carrot at his head.

“For the love of god, Scott, do not bring up ‘Spiderman’!”)

“She wants us to join her and Andrew for dinner the first week of December, once rehearsals start. That’s ok, right?”

“Sure,” he agrees, flatly, frowning in that jealous way he does, the way he thinks he hides well (but he  _ really  _ doesn’t – you can see that look from way up in the rearmost seat in the balcony every night whenever Satine is conversing with the Duke). Andrew Pojé – a new kid on the Toronto theatre scene despite being several months older than Scott – will be starring opposite them as the Duke. Scott’s done his research on their new co-stars, Andrew used to be a pro dancer on Dancing with the Stars and has recently made the switch into musical theatre. He’s tall, dark haired and handsome, with a pleasant baritone voice, and has been romantically linked to all of the celebrity contestants he ever danced with (though relationships were always denied).

“Don’t start that again,” Tessa says with a teasing smile and wiggles her eyebrows. He visibly relaxes and chuckles softly at her line from the song 

“I just don’t like the thought of fending off yet another Duke, T” he says, looking away and fidgeting his hands nervously.

“Good thing you don’t have to then isn’t it?” She places her hand on his thigh and squeezes until he looks up to meet her eyes. “I’m all yours, Scott,” she whispers, closing her eyes and the gap between them to press her lips firmly to his with a soft smile. Their self-imposed quarantine was necessary, but god did she miss getting to kiss him whenever she wanted.

“Besides,” she says, pulling away from him and lying back against the opposite arm of the couch, resting her feet in his lap and adjusting the blanket back around them, “he and Kaitlyn have been together for five years, so we’re all safe.”

“Five years!” he exclaims, a little too loudly. Apparently, it would seem all those relationship denials were true.

She makes an affirmative noise and places her phone down on the coffee table.

“Okay then, I take back my jealousy. Forgive me?”

“Of course.” She pokes his toned stomach with her big toe and he flinches, reaching down to rest his hands on her shins so that she can’t do it again. 

“Tell me more about Kaitlyn,” he says, setting back against the couch cushions, content he is safe from unwarranted toe-poking. “You guys went to uni together, right?”

“Yeah we did. We roomed at Western together in our first year. She started out doing World Literature and Culture, whilst I was a Psych major, so we didn’t go to classes together, but we were both on the dance team, and she did cheerleading.” Scott nods, understanding how she ended up in ‘Bring It On’. 

“We were the best of friends, totally inseparable; we were each other’s confidante, shoulder to cry on, plus one at parties. Fast forward to our final year and we’re both theatre majors, and she’s was the Maureen to my Joanne. Our ‘Take Me or Leave Me’ was the thing of UWO legend!” Her eyes are bright with excitement as she reminisces, the impossible green reflecting the fire’s burning glow from the other side of the room.

“Hmm,” he muses thoughtfully, running his fingertips down her shins under the blanket. “Perhaps my jealousy was directed at the wrong cast member, Virtch?”

Her only response is a mischievous smile, to which he raises an eyebrow, firstly in surprise, but then he gets this little smirk on his face. She chuckles and rolls her eyes at him – 21 or 33, boys are always the same it seems. But she can forgive this one she thinks; he’s special.

But it’s still fun to tease, “I dunno. She’ll be my understudy,” she bats her lashes demurely and whispers, “if she has to go on instead of me, I’m not sure who I’ll be more jealous of.”

She suddenly feels Scott’s warm hands grasp around her ankles and he turns to face her and tugs her towards him with a soft, husky growl, pulling her legs on either side of his hips. He leans forward so his entire body hovers over her. They’re not touching at all, but the air between them crackles and burns just like the fire in the hearth, and smells like a mixture of red wine mingled with the Oreo cheesecake they had for dessert. She can see his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate, just a golden ring of the vibrant hazel remaining. 

She reaches up to place her palms on either side of his face, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she surges forwards. He meets her half way, crashing their mouths together with the same intensity as they had in the back of the car earlier. Soon it turns softer as he pulls her entire body flush to his, caressing her neck and head as he plants gentle kisses on her lips, her nose, before nipping at her ears, her neck, and then, ever so slowly, worshipfully making his way down her body.

Many, many minutes later the only sound left in the room is the popping and crackling of the dying embers in the grate and their soft breaths as they both sleep peacefully, bodies entwined beneath the blanket, clothes strewn randomly on the back of the couch and on the coffee table, whilst the DVD player switches itself off, having got tired of showing the paused image of Gene, Donald and Debbie making ‘em laugh.

They have time, right in this moment, to run away from everything, from everyone, and just be here. Together. Even if it’s only for one night.

**Author's Note:**

> A very Merry Christmas to the wonderful PinkGerberDaisies! Your worlds are quite Spectacular(!) and reading your fics has honestly been one of the highlights of my year.
> 
> Special thank you to Tara, Kristina and Theresa for proof reading this and helping me along at various points. And double thanks to Theresa for helping me by providing all sorts of excellent Broadway insider knowledge, including writing up a full timeline for contracts, renewals, rehearsals, opening nights and more!


End file.
